Super Powereds: Year 1

by Drew Hayes

  “At least he showed a little forethought in that regard,” Alice said. “I suppose progress is progress.”

  “On that note, I suggest we ‘progress’ our butts into the car so we can get on the road,” Nick said. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not really feeling spending my day in the parking lot when there’s an aquatic option just a few hours down the road.”

  * * *

  Roy fed his steel pony some gas and picked up the gallop. He was racing down the highway, sunglasses on his face, duffel bag slung across his back, and helmet nowhere to be seen. Sure, some cop might bust his balls, but one quick demonstration would show that in a battle between Roy and concrete, concrete was going to get its shit wrecked.

  His phone vibrated on his side and Roy whipped it into view. It was a text from Julia letting him know the exact location they were starting at today, along with flowery language about looking forward to seeing him. He supposed he did owe her a good deep-dicking for sending him the directions. Plus, she wasn’t boring in bed, even after all these months. There was something to be said for that.

  Fast as Roy was going (and to be honest, the speed limit was a distant arbitrary marker for him at this point), he was still utterly smoked a few moments later as something that registered as no more than a blur tore past him and kicked up a tremendous gust of wind.

  Roy coughed on the dust that had been stirred up before choking out the word “Bitch.” He pulled back harder on his throttle and ripped further past the speed limit, aware that he had zero chance of beating the girl who’d dashed past him and equally aware that he was going to try anyway.

  * * *

  “I think we’re ready to go,” Dean Blaine said as the last of the freshman drove out of the parking lot.

  “About time,” Angela said, walking over and stretching her back, resulting in a series of popping sounds. “You’d think when your choices are cruising the water and sitting in a parking lot people wouldn’t lag so much in the latter.”

  “They were relaxing with their friends,” Ben pointed out. “We did the same last year.”

  “Speak for yourself,” Angela countered. “By this time I was already three beers deep and topless.”

  “There’s no way you were already on the river by this time last year,” Ben said.

  “I don’t think I claimed I was,” Angela replied with a coy smile.

  “Such a wonderful thing for the dean to hear about the female half of his chaperones,” Dean Blaine sighed.

  “Look at it this way, I know all the stupid crap they’re likely to try,” Angela said.

  “I suppose we’ll call that a silver lining and just breeze past it,” Dean Blaine said. “Now, you two remember how this works?”

  “Sure,” Ben said. “We meet them at the start point, unload the river cruising gear, and pile all their stuff on the bus in its place. Then we give them tubes and outfit them with copious amounts of alcohol. One of the local staff drives the bus to the campsite and we cruise the river with them to make sure everything is okay. That night we camp and feed them. The next day is pretty much rinse and repeat, and so on until we come home.”

  “Glad to hear at least one of you is up on procedure,” Dean Blaine said. “But I would appreciate it if you would at least go to the trouble of lying to me about the prescense of underage youths and alcohol. We try to look the other way during this trip so they can let loose from stress, but there are limits. Now, off you two go. We don’t want to make our students wait.”

  “Psh, with all the tech this bus is outfitted with I bet we beat the super-speed kid there,” Angela said. “We’ll be fine.”

  “Drive carefully,” Dean Blaine said, handing the blonde girl the keys. He watched warily as she hopped into the cab and fired up the engine, almost immediately stomping on the gas. Inwardly he wondered if it was such a good idea to choose chaperones purely by rank instead of by those with high levels of empathy and responsibility. Then he remembered some of the antics from his own trip so many years ago and resolved that it was better to have someone who was able to handle the big problems rather than someone with a talent for handling little ones.

  He hoped.

  119.

  “Okay people, grab a tube, a cooler for those who want them, a few friends, and hit the water,” Angela yelled to the crowd. “We’re on the buddy system, so no one floats alone. Leave your crap in the bus. It’ll be waiting at the campsite when we finish today.”

  “Don’t have to tell me twice,” Nick said, slinging off his duffel bag and tossing it into the rapidly accumulating pile by the bus. In its place he scooped up a bright yellow tube and a Styrofoam cooler. A cursory inspection showed it to be filled with ice, beer, box-wine bladders sans their boxes, and Jell-O shots. There also may have been a bottle of water or two, if there was room. Nick let out a low whistle. “Wow, they really do things right on these trips.”

  Vince glanced over Nick’s shoulder. “Is that all for one person?”

  “It is now,” Nick said, slipping the lid back on.

  Alice grabbed a tube and a cooler as well, with Alex and Sasha following suit. Vince tried to stick with just the tube, however he was informed in no uncertain terms that he was getting a cooler too. They assured him that even if he didn’t drink the contents, someone would.

  The group trekked down the worn dirt path, some admiring the forest around them, while other’s eyes were focused on the co-eds already splashing around in the river. They reached the edge of the water, running into Thomas, Stella, and Violet, who were already setting down their tubes. Thomas and Vince noted that each was carrying a cooler and exchanged knowing glances. It seemed those chosen to be mules for extra booze could recognize others of their kind. The crew from Nick’s car, as well as Sasha, placed their tubes delicately in the river and hooked the floating drink repositories to them using attached lines of rope. Then came the stripping.

  It was a quick affair, one person from each group piling all the clothes into a cloth sack while another bagged the shoes. It was a matter of efficiency and quickness as most hurried to get water covering up these newly-exposed parts of their body. Some were less self-conscious than others, with Nick and Stella both moving slowly in disrobing down to their swimsuits, giving ample show to anyone who cared to watch. As Alice settled into her own tube, she was glad she had gone with the pink suit over the green one. Bursting was all well and good for show, but for a long day of relaxation she didn’t feel like worrying about things slipping out the whole time.

  The group finished bagging the clothes and cast off from the shore, joining the slow-moving convoy of fellow students drifting down the river. They were in their own clusters, with little more than a few tens of feet between each grouping.

  “Now this is the life,” Alex said, plucking out a beer and cracking it open.

  “A man after my own heart,” Nick said, pulling out a beer of his own.

  The others, with the exceptions of Vince and Thomas, joined in as the current began pulling them forward.

  * * *

  “Here at last, I see,” Angela said, handing tubes to Shane, Michael, and Chad.

  “We took the scenic route,” Shane said.

  “Did you now?” Angela looked over at Chad, who shook his head.

  “He tried to hijack the car and steer us in a different direction,” Chad said. If it had been an interesting experience, one would never have guessed it from his tone.

  “Ah, and what stopped him?” Angela asked.

  “Me.” Chad took the tube and glanced down at the coolers. He reached into one and procured a lone bottle of water, then began heading toward the river. Michael, on the other hand, scooped up a cooler for himself, as well as the one Chad had poorly pilfered, and quickly began stepping after the blond leader.

  “So, tried to run, huh?”

  “I somehow find it difficult to believe you’re genuinely surprised,” Shane sighed, accepting a tube.

  “I’m not surprised. More
disappointed, really,” Angela said. She reached down and grabbed a cooler and held it out to her little brother. He stared at her, making no motion to accept it.

  “So sorry to disappoint,” Shane said, turning away to follow his friends.

  “Ahem.” Angela cleared her throat.

  “Must we do this?”

  “You’re going to enjoy yourself,” she declared.

  “And the only way to achieve such a lofty goal is with the use of under-age drinking?” Shane asked.

  “For you, probably. Otherwise you’ll spend the day moping in your tube, stuck on the fact that you were forced to be here rather than just enjoying how awesome this is,” Angela said.

  “So your solution is to force me to do even more things I don’t want to?”

  “In for a dime, in for a dollar,” Angela said, beaming a shameless smile.

  Shane considered resisting, then surveyed his surroundings. It was still morning, and while the trees cast plenty of shadows, there was no denying the sun was out in full strength. Beating Angela would be hard enough if he had an environmental advantage. Without it, he was as good as wrecked.

  Shane trudged back over and snapped the cooler out of Angela’s hands.

  “Good boy, now catch up with your friends. We’re strict about the buddy system here,” Angela said.

  “Then where’s yours?”

  “Up ahead, minding the flock,” Angela said. “I insisted on waiting behind to make sure my dear little brother arrived safely.”

  Shane’s eyes narrowed. “You know I’m going to beat you one day.”

  “Maybe, maybe not. But unless you think that day is today I’d recommend getting your hustle on.”

  Shane hesitated a moment longer, then took a brisk pace down the path after Michael and Chad.

  Angela gave him a few minutes’ head start, then grabbed a tube and cooler for herself and began heading down. She began humming to herself, enjoying the sunshine and the beautiful day before her. She briefly wondered if today would be the day Shane earnestly tried to kill her. She doubted it; he was a strong kid, he could take a little more.

  She’d be on guard, though, just in case.

  120.

  “Dare,” Stella said confidently.

  “Fine, I dare you to shotgun a beer,” Violet challenged.

  Stella dipped her hand into the cooler and produced a fresh can of low-proof alcohol. Her hand turned metallic as she slammed her index finger into the can’s side while popping open the top. Without coming up once for breath, Stella drained her drink and cast the can back into the cooler.

  “See, this is why games played with your roommate are always more fun,” Stella declared, exchanging a high five with Violet.

  “Your turn to pick someone,” Thomas reminded her.

  “Oh, believe me, I’m aware,” Stella said, her voice bordering on predatory. “I’m looking at you, Nick. Truth or dare?”

  “Truth,” Nick replied immediately. It was the obvious choice. Actions were undeniable; however, he could always lie with words.

  “What in the hell is up with the glasses? I mean, seriously,” Stella said.

  Nick took a draw from his own drink. He’d found that answering too quickly put up people’s defenses that it might be a deception. Going slow, however, and pretending as though the act of answering required alcohol-based fortification, those things sold the listeners on the legitimacy of an answer. Of course, it also helped to make it something that was either slightly revealing or embarrassing.

  “They’re a social mechanism,” Nick said. “They keep me a little bit different, a little bit separated from everyone else. Back home I was so used to being special because of my powers, when I came up here I guess I was scared of blending in. So I made sure everyone would notice me.”

  “Huh,” Stella said. “That was more honesty than I was expecting. Kudos, kid. Your turn.”

  “I’m picking Vince,” Nick said. “Truth or dare?”

  “Um, truth,” Vince said.

  “Psh, that’s a waste,” Sasha chimed in. “Vince always tells the truth anyway.”

  “A valid point, but how else am I going to get the boy to drink if I don’t try to catch him in a dare?” Nick pointed out.

  “Fair enough,” Sasha conceded.

  “Anyway, here’s my question for you, buddy. I noticed something odd when you took your shirt off. You have no scars, like, at all. Now, since you’ve been at Lander you’ve had healers on hand to patch you on the fly, but for a guy with your level of martial arts experience, it seems odd that you never sustained any injury. What’s the deal?” Nick asked.

  “That’s a pretty invasive question,” Alice noted.

  “I’m pretty set on making him pick dare next time,” Nick said. “So, Silver, how’s about it?”

  “I used to have scars,” Vince said. “I got into an accident when I was sixteen, though. I was taken care of by a healer.”

  “Oookay, so what happened all the injuries your body had sustained in the years prior?” Nick prodded.

  “He was a very good healer,” Vince said, glancing away.

  “Damn,” Stella said. “That’s an intense power.”

  “No kidding,” Alex agreed.

  “Question well answered, though I feel like there’s more story than I’m getting,” Nick said. “Your turn.”

  “Hmm. I pick Jill. Truth or dare?”

  “Dare!” Jill announced enthusiastically.

  “Oh,” Vince said. “I suppose I dare you to put more sunscreen on your nose so you don’t burn.”

  “Seriously?” Jill asked, her excitement deflating.

  “Sure,” Vince said.

  “Wow, okay you guys are awful at this game,” Jill sighed, pulling out her sunscreen and briskly reapplying to her face. “It’s not supposed to be these deep ass questions. It’s supposed to be embarrassing and at least vaguely sexual. For example, it’s now my turn and I pick Alice. Truth or dare?”

  “After that lead in? I’m going with truth,” Alice said.

  “Works for me. I’ve wanted to ask for a while anyway. Are those things fake or natural?”

  Alice began blushing as soon as the meaning of Jill’s words registered. Still, she was playing the game, and that’s how these things went sometimes.

  “Natural,” Alice said. “Apparently it runs in my family.

  “Ugh, and with that tiny waist, too. You’re such a bitch,” Jill said, her tone full of more friendliness than her words.

  “I do what I can,” Alice said, taking a drink from the chilled wine bladder that had been one of the features of her cooler. It was awful, awful stuff, made even worse if the consumer knew anything about wine. Her father would have died to see his daughter consuming such swill. Which might have been a significant factor in why Alice was chugging away on it.

  “Okay, so my turn. I choose our tan stoic,” Alice said. “Thomas, truth or dare?”

  “Truth,” Thomas said.

  “Let’s see,” Alice said, drumming her fingers on the side of the tube. "Oh, I know! In terms of bases, just how far did you get with our little Violet back when you two dated?”

  “I’m not sure that’s appropriate for a gentleman to disclose,” Thomas began.

  “Oh, it’s fine, that’s the whole point of the game,” Violet interrupted. “Tell away, I’m not ashamed.”

  “I believe the term is ‘Home,’” Thomas said, keeping his eyes firmly away from everyone else in the group.

  There was a series of catcalls and whistling, as well as grumbling from Alex about even the ones who didn't want it getting more play than him.

  “That’s right, that’s right,” Violet said, lifting her arms in pride. “I nailed me a good boy. I know I’m your hero.”

  “Moving on,” Thomas said. “I select Jill. Truth or dare?”

  “Dare!” Jill said, once more yelping with enthusiasm.

  “Very well, I dare you to lay a kiss on Alex that renders him incapable of coher
ent thought,” Thomas said.

  “Woo, Thomas taking it up a notch,” Sasha cheered.

  “She did advocate a more risqué theme in the game,” Thomas justified. “Besides, I find it permissible to look out for my friends.”

  Jill began paddling over to Alex, who threw up his hands.

  “There’s no need for that,” Alex said. “I’m not into girls kissing me out of obligation.”

  “Oh, shut up,” Jill said as she reached him. She grabbed his tube and pulled herself close. Without pause she latched onto Alex’s shoulders and lifted her body up to his level. The kiss lasted for nearly a minute, long enough to become mildly uncomfortable for those watching. At last Jill released Alex’s narrow form and dropped back into her own tube, the force of her landing setting her drifting back toward Alice.

  “I don’t know about coherent thought,” Jill said as she paddled to steady herself, “but I guarantee he won’t be able to stand without embarrassment for at least five minutes. That work?”

  “That works,” Thomas confirmed. “Your turn.”

  121.

  If you’d asked Alex, he would have told you he was buzzed. If you’d asked someone with a bit more drinking experience, they would have told you he was past buzzed, nearing snockered, and well on the road to wasted. Regardless of his level of intoxication, though, he was happy and floating along.

  He’d drifted away somewhat from his original group, but he was hardly concerned. There were students all around him, some still clustered, some floating freely as they found their concerns subdued by the rocking of the current and the chemical effects of alcohol.

  Every now and then he caught sight of the chaperones, moving up and down through the crowds, keeping an eye to ensure everything was all right. For all their talk about the buddy system they seemed to content to let the free-floaters be, so long as they were at least in eye- and earshot of everyone else.

  So lost in lack of thought was Alex that he didn’t even notice he was coming up on another tube until he bumped softly into it.